Triptych
by Coffee-Flavored Fate
Summary: Three broken souls. A little character exploration, somewhat introspective. Threeshot.
1. Hopeless Flame

A/N: I do not own DN Angel, I just enjoy it.

**'Hope' is not a word in Hiwatari Satoshi's vocabulary.**

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Satoshi has no experience with interpersonal relations, whether friendships, family or casual acquaintance. From the moment he's been able to walk, he's been working, training. Studying Dark, studying art, studying law, researching, taking notes, planning. It's no surprise, therefore, that he approaches his friendship- his feelings- for his little red-haired not-quite-enemy the same way. Analytical, systematic. Studying Niwa. Watching Niwa interact with others. Taking notes. Researching. ( Every inch the detective) A neat blend of the detatched, scientific mind he's developed and the hunter he was born to be, as the last in a long line of Kaito-hunters, instincts and skills honed by the experience of an active career in law-enforcement.

He's not at the planning stage yet, and he's barely even begun to allow himself to consider it. The thought of anything more than the tenuous friendship that Niwa insists they share is almost beyond the realm of possibility. Even if Niwa wasn't already in a relationship with the eldest Harada twin, there was no telling how he would react to a confession from a friend of the male persuasion. Hiwatari was unwilling to risk losing contact with the other altogether by introducing an element that would likely be met with disgust, embarassment and revulsion- possibly even hatred. And even, if by some miracle Niwa was to accept and forgive him (the possibility that the young thief would reciprocate the sentiment was a wild improbability which Satoshi was not foolish enough to entertain), there would still be Krad. His curse, his ever-present '_guardian angel_'(the term dripping with bitterness and irony) would still be there, cementing the rift between them. A rift that would never be closed, could never be closed, he could not allow himself to hope that it would be bridged, never, never, for if he ever let the other get close and the homicidal _disease_ within him hurt the young thief in any way, the young Hiwatari would never be able to forgive himself.

And yet for all his training, for all his cold clinicality Hiwatari is underneath it all _human_. With needs he's schooled himself to deny, dreams he refuses to acknowledge, and now burning deep within his core a love that he cannot pretend not to recognize any longer. A blue flame that is continuously stoked by the unknowing young thief, in simple caring gestures, glances full of innocent concern, overtures of friendship; open, pure, and accepting. Everytime the young Niwa seeks him out after the battles between his alter-ego and the young detective to make sure 'Hiwatari-kun' is alright, everytime the little redhead worries over other's eating habits (or lack thereof), or calls after him, says his name; that flame burns a little brighter, a little hotter, a little purer. Everytime Niwa _smiles_ at him with that _bright_, agonizingly _beautiful_ innocent _smile_ and that fire flares out of control, licking through the Hikari's veins with a searing, hungry _heat_ and for a moment it comes over him that just _one _of those innocent smiles could be his world, is enough, is more than enough, and at the same time isn't _nearly_ enough and he _needs_ so much more.

At these times Satoshi is thankful for the self-control that years of psychological torture at the hands of his inner-demon have taught him, so that the facade he presents reveals nothing of the raging fires within him. And he builds an impenetrable wall around it, sealing it away from the prying eyes of the world, from Krad, and to an extent from himself. A barrier that is simultaneously a symbol of denial and protection. This fire, this love, is both the most regretted and most cherished occurrence in his life. Late in his darkest nights, in those far-too-rare moments when Krad is asleep and unaware, he creeps into the cloister and worships at the alter of his love. Bathing in the blue flames, the pain is intense- almost unbearable, deeper than anything he's received at the hands of Krad. But it is sweet, warm, beautiful, and healing in a way he cannot comprehend; and he needs it in the same way he needs to breathe. He would be a willing sacrifice, allowing the fire to consume him until nothing but ash is left. Perhaps one day he will, but for now the moments are over all too soon. He cannot risk more than a brief indulgence, lest his other half begin to understand the depths to which he has fallen for his blood enemy.

He knows that Dark suspects, but he is secure in the belief that the Phantom Thief would rather cut off his own wings than reveal his suspicions to his host. He knows also that he is not the only one who has noticed young Niwa. In truth, he would be more surprised if he _had_ been. The thief has spent hundreds of years in the presence of art. Paintings, sculptures, jewelry of breathtaking artistry and haunting presence. _Masterpeices_. The Hikari had wrought heartwrending beauty in stone, precious metals, rare paints throughout the centuries- and the Niwa had stolen them, one by one. Hikari creations gained cursed life through the souls of their creators, their worshippers; bringing misery, destruction, death to those drawn to them. The Niwa's stole the possessed art, sealing it away in safety.

Now the Niwa had brought forth beauty of their own; not in oil and canvas, alabaster or gold; but in flesh, blood and spirit. The Niwa creation, unlike the Hikari's, brought warmth, healing...life.

The Niwa lived to steal the Hikari's creations.

_It would be ironic, would it not, if the last of the Hikari were to steal the only Niwa masterpeice?_

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Ok. My first fanfic, and my my first written work shared with anyone aside from one close friend. Constructive criticism and suggestions welcome. 

One note: The italicized last line is rhetorical, and not supposed to be something that has ever crossed Hiwatari's mind. I _intend_ to add chapters to this, depending on inspiration. Assuming things go according to plan, the reason for that last line should become clear.

Hope you enjoy!


	2. Fevered Dreams

**Here's...something. I didn't intend to write this, and I'm not entirely sure where it came from. C'est la vie. I'll probably re-do it as soon as I find the references I've been looking for. **

Disclaimer: I don't own DN Angel nor its affiliates. That doesn't stop me from messing with them, though. (mwahahah)

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Satoshi, Dark, Krad. They all want the same thing, but deal with it in different ways. To be accepted. To be wanted. To be _loved_. But who would love them as they are? They know it is hopeless. 

Satoshi knows he is worthless. A vessel for a homicidal curse, with only one purpose in life- catch Dark. Of no value, except as a tool or a toy.

Dark knows he is not real. He is here today, gone tomorrow. At any moment he might close his eyes, and when he opens them again, everything will have changed. He has nothing to offer. His existence is a fleeting dream; no-one can truly love an illusion.

Krad knows he is unwanted. Ignored, rejected by even his other half, part of himself. He is alone in his darkness, and he will remain alone. He reaches out, he destroys, he rages, he mocks, because if he is hated, _they will see him_, and he is real, he is _important_ to them, they cannot ignore him, the shattering glass and the broken dolls and the blood and the screams make him _real_, it is proof that he exists, because if he didn't then he could have no effect on them. But he must _keep_ destroying, must _keep_ breaking, continue to be hated, because he cannot be sure that what is in the past is real. What is here, what is now, is the only thing he is sure of. What happened in the past may have been a dream. He thinks, sometimes, that he might be a dream; and if he is a dream than he will be a nightmare, because nightmares are remembered, and that makes them real.

Destroying things makes them _his_ , too. Owning things makes you real. Humans owned things, all sorts of things, until they died. Krad didn't have his own body, so he couldn't keep things he owned with him; but if he destroyed them, then they were his, forever. No-one else could ever touch them. He'd be the last to touch them, to see them whole and beautiful and that too made them his; almost intimately so.

Satoshi was his. Satoshi's life revolved around him, more so even than it did Dark. He owned Satoshi, he _possessed_ Satoshi. Satoshi was beautiful, and a little bit broken, in a way that made it clear that he was important to Satoshi. He had made sure Satoshi always thought of him, and he protected Satoshi. He made sure Satoshi stayed away from others, that Satoshi knew what would happen if he got close to anyone except Krad, because Krad would hurt anyone who hurt his Satoshi, even if that meant hurting them before they had the chance. Satoshi belonged to Krad, and Krad would protect his own.

He has to capture Dark, because when he is back with his other half he will be whole. _They_ will be whole, and this emptiness that gnaws at him will _go away,_ and he won't be alone anymore. But his other half keeps running, and it's so _frustrating_, he doesn't _understand _, why Dark won't just come back, why he's with those Niwa and keeps _leaving him alone_, always alone. He hates being alone in the darkness, being ignored, being rejected over and over and over and he will _make sure_ no one will ever ignore or reject him again.

And in the little Niwa brat's eyes he sees acceptance, and that terrifies him, because if he is accepted is he still real? And this _Niwa_, Niwa stole his other half from him, they left him alone, they're the _reason_ he's alone, _they're keeping Dark from him_ and without Dark he can never be whole (and if the Niwa accepts him what if it's not enough and he's still empty?).

Krad recognizes Daisuke's light, his warmth, and craves it. He craves it as much as it terrifies him, and hates the little Niwa as much as he can't help loving him, _wanting_ him, because he's been lost in the dark for so long, and there is no warmth here in the Hikari, only searing heat or icy coldness. And he wants to destroy the Niwa for making him hope in spite of himself. Because even though he knows it'll never happen, that it _can't be real_, that if he ever actually took a step towards the light it would disappear like the illusion it is (or maybe reveal him for the illusion he is?), it _makes him hope_, and that hurts more than never hoping at all. Because he will be standing there with his broken hope alone in the icy darkness, and know what it was to be warm and in the light, and know he will never be warm or illuminated again. And it will be _so much worse_ than never having known.

Daisuke, with his light, his warmth, his impossible promise, has taken Dark from him, is taking Satoshi from him, taking _everything _from him. He cannot help but envy Daisuke, who has and is everything Krad wants. One day the Niwa, thief that he is, may take Krad from himself, and he will have nothing, and be nothing, and he knows it and hates it and fears it, _but he can't stop wanting._

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_A/N:_ Unlike Dark, i think Krad _is_ prone to introspection. However, being somewhat insane, his reasoning leaves something to be desired. 

I know there's an excess of italics, commas and names, but this is supposed to be Krad's POV in one of Krad's less...lucid moments. I think madness is like living in those crazy dreams you get when you're running a fever of 102 and doped up on meds. Freaky and surreal, and everything seems so incredibly _urgent_ at the time. I apologize if it's difficult to read. And kind of creepy.


	3. Desperate Impulse

Disclaimer: Do not own DN Angel, etc.

Again, this pretty much wrote itself. Again, i will probably rewrite it as soon as I have more information.

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Dark is a creature of impulse. Every whim granted, every urge pursued. Like now, dancing through the sky, wind ruffling his hair and feathers under the deep expanse of night. He laughs, diving and swooping through the heavens between glittering stars and a sparkling sea. He relishes each moment of freedom, the post-heist adrenaline coursing through his veins adding to the heady rush of flight. He is free, truly free, for a moment here between earth and sky. He is spirit on wings, weightless, all sensation and unborn thought, pure reaction. Times like this were rare, and he savors them fully.

Dark understood fully well what he was. He was not allowed to forget. His previous tamers had let him out only on necessity, leashing him in as soon as he had served his purpose. He would come out, complete his work, and dutifully retreated into the minds of his tamers. Few of them had been cruel, but to all of them he had nonetheless been a tool to use towards their goals. An interesting tool, perhaps...a family pet; a precious heirloom...but not a real _person_. It hadn't bothered him. After all, he was only the fragmented spirit of an artwork, a thing. A 'curse'. Just another Hikari artwork to add to their growing collection.

If Dark had been one for introspection, he may have concluded that this fact might explain his daredevil behaviour. He made the most of every moment he was allowed control- acting on impulse, living life to the fullest. He laughed and teased and escaped and flew and kissed the pretty girls, because he knew it was the closest he would ever get to living. There was no _time_ to look before he leapt. If he didn't leap now, who knew when or if he'd get the chance again.

Daisuke was the first host he'd had who welcomed him as an equal, of sorts. Oh, not at first, no...but Dark couldn't fault him for that. The boy hadn't had any knowledge of what would befall him in his 14th year. He had felt the fear and uncertainty that had greeted his arrival in Daisuke's mind. One of the very few hosts who had not been raised from birth with the knowledge and preparation to become the host of their family secret. He had to admit, he had taken full advantage of that ignorance. But eventually Daisuke had accepted his new inhabitant. As a partner, a friend, and even family...which blew Dark's mind when he first came to the realization. Where his previous Tamers had viewed him as a necessary burden, unleashing him and calling him back as one might a well-trained dog- with affection, or occasionally resigned indulgence, but nonetheless not as an equal- Daisuke looked to him with respect, with concern, with open-hearted acceptance.

Dipping down, he trails a hand through moonlit waves. As the dark water ripples and furrows around his fingertips, leaving a wake which smoothes without a trace after he has passed. He is reminded of a time when Daisuke, phantom thief in tow, had once visited an Aquarium on a school field trip. The guide had spoken of the starfish- an animal which, when cut in half, would eventually grow into two new starfish. If he thought about it, he was much like that. At one time he had been part of a whole, until the incident which had (much like a knife through a starfish) unmade him. He had been broken, incomplete. A ghost of what once had been.

Really, it was only fitting that he became the _Phantom_ Thief- a remnant of a dead artwork, inhabiting bodies of the living in order to chase the uneasy spirits of other artworks; the dull throb of a phantom pain where the missing half of the soul he had once been as his only memory.

Yet…over time, the partial existence had changed. Slowly, through the decades, he became aware of himself, of them, and of life. He came to understand what living was, through their eyes. And like the broken half of a starfish, his fragmented soul had grown. Healed. He had become a new creation, slowly becoming a whole unto himself.

Rika had been the one who awakened him to the awareness within him. Until he had met her, had learned to love her, he had known unconsciously that he was discontent, that he was missing something, but not what or _why. _Upon meeting her, growing to love her, he came to realize thateveryone around him had the freedom to move as they pleased, to act on their impulses, to laugh, to cry, to love, to win and lose. He alone was denied this freedom of existence. He hadn't even known that he _could_ love until Rika— and with her love in return, he began to believe it possible that he was more than just a _thing_. It was not to be, however, and when his time had come and he was forced to bid her goodbye and return to his exile, he was broken again. This time in not only his soul was torn in two, but also his newly-realized heart.

It was Daisuke who was healing him, this time. Little Daisuke with his warm, caring, surprisingly trusting nature, opening a place for Dark in his life without even realizing it. Perhaps Daisuke, too, with no father or siblings, needed someone there to fill a void in his life. Most likely it was simply who Daisuke _was_; all warmth, light, and acceptance.

He smiles as he feels his Tamer's concern over his moment of uncharacteristic pensiveness in their shared mind, and responds with a feeling of reassurance. Whatever the reason, Dark will take everything he can, while he can. He will be warmed, healed, and trusted. He will be cared for, and care for in return. He will share in Daisuke's life for as long as Daisuke is his host. And he will not think about the future, for Dark is a creature of impulse.

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AN: This is pretty much the impression I have of Dark, both from the anime and what I've read of the manga. He comes across as a cocky, spoiled jerk at first, but I think he has some unexplored depth. If he ever got a body of his own, I think he might eventually develop into surprisingly stable, interesting person (after a considerable adjustment period). I doubt he'd lose his playfulness, though. Corrections, suggestions and input are welcome. 


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